


Green

by WritingForTheRevolution



Series: Shades of You [5]
Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Colors, F/F, F/M, Infidelity, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-22
Updated: 2019-08-22
Packaged: 2020-09-23 17:44:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,502
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20344135
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WritingForTheRevolution/pseuds/WritingForTheRevolution
Summary: Nature, nurture, healing, growth.You don’t notice green.





	Green

**Author's Note:**

> It's been a really long time. This series is two years old now, and I really need to finish it, but there are only two more parts left!
> 
> But now I'm in college and maybe I'll have a bit more free time and less hectic schedules. Maybe. I haven't even started classes yet.
> 
> If any of you read Missing You, it's still alive, I promise. I'm just procrastinating.

Green.

It was the color of the leafy, shady trees in the summer, the color of the plants growing out of the dirt. It was the color of the sea before it stormed and the color of the rain-streaked glass as Aaron stared out the window, his breath clouding it with the color. It was the color of the tiny plants he kept on the windowsill in his kitchen, and the clean smell that encompassed his apartment. It was the color that appeared in the grass and in the trees, the color that tinted the water on cloudy days, the one that appeared almost everywhere, yet it was one that no one paid much attention to.

It was a color that didn’t wait for anyone, a color that encouraged others to go for it, to attempt something before it was gone and the color lingered instead in the form of regret, but for Aaron, it was the color that told him to stop, to wait for a better opportunity.

It was the subtle, unnoticed one that hovered in the background, calculating, much like Aaron did himself.

It was the color of the party that Alexander dragged him to, where the color flashed with the dizzying lights and the pounding beat of the music. It was the color that danced around Angelica, who came up to them and pulled Alexander away to meet someone else, and it was the nervous energy Aaron could see around the girl standing against the wall.

It was the color he felt when he met Theodosia that one night, in a dim bar where the color lurked, muted, in the dark corners. It was the color of the energy between them, the color of her soft laughter and the color of everything Aaron realized he wanted but didn’t know how to go about pursuing.

It was the color he felt as he fell in love with her, the one that hovered around them during their dates, or whatever they were; Aaron didn’t know what to call them. It was the color that, for once, pushed him to go for it, but it was also the color of the small stones in her ring that sparkled every time she moved her hand, an engagement ring.

It was the hopefulness he felt and tried to push down when he asked her what they were, and it was the constricting feeling in his chest when she said she didn’t know. It was the color he saw whenever she happened to mention her fiancé, the color that flashed across the eyes of the monster in his head and the color that he swallowed back when he told her he was happy for her, the same color he had watched Laurens push away every time he stared at Alexander and Eliza.

It was the color he felt when he actually thought about what Theo was doing, what he was helping her do, and it was the way his stomach turned uncomfortably before he shoved the thoughts from his mind. It was the guilt he felt whenever she texted, asking to meet up somewhere to see him, and it was the shame he pushed aside when he texted her back and allowed it to happen.

It was the color that hung heavily in the silence every time Aaron asked her if she was going to break off her engagement, and the color that shrunk back every time she told him it would be soon. It was the doubt that clouded Aaron’s mind when he laid in bed at night, wondering why the hell he was even doing this.

It was the color that glowed from the light on the porch when Theo showed up on his doorstep and told him she’d broken it off, and it was the color of Theo’s eyes as she laughed, free and clear, when Aaron lifted her up and spun her around in the darkness on his porch, and it was the color of the nervousness that showed through Aaron’s facade of cool indifference when he set her down and realized that he finally had a chance to make this work.

And months later, it was the color that exploded from his chest when he asked her to marry him and she said yes.

It was the color of their wedding, the light, barely there color that stained her flowy dress, and the color of the tiny green leaves creeping up between the flowers in the table centerpieces. It was the color of the soft music floating across the room, and the color that reflected off the dance floor as he spun his beautiful wife around, the two of them against the world.

It was the color that tinted the world when Aaron thought everything was going to be perfect.

Months later, it was the color of the spikes on the heart monitor in the pristine room, the color that pushed its way into his thoughts and poisoned them as he sat in the uncomfortable plastic chair, the color of the veins under her skin as he rubbed his fingers over her tense hand.

It was the color of the panic that enveloped him when everything normal was interrupted by the harsh beeping of the color on the monitor, and when he was shoved from the room by a couple of nurses, it was the color that hid behind the door as it was slammed shut in his face.

It was the color of the empty silence in the echoing hallway and the anxiousness that clouded Aaron’s thoughts and the color of the doctor’s whispered _I’m sorry._

And it was the color of the emotions that finally broke free when Aaron collapsed into a chair, his chest wracked with silent sobs.

It was the color of the stripes on the blanket when his daughter—_their_ daughter—was placed in Aaron’s arms. She had his eyes, not Theo’s; Theo’s were filled with the color that Aaron’s never had. She resembled Aaron so strongly that sometimes it was hard to look at her without bursting into tears, tears that brought swirling, colored storm clouds over his head and stained his face in the color.

It was the color that tugged at his mind with everything he did, the color that told him that he wasn’t doing this right, that he couldn’t raise a daughter without her mother, that he would never be good enough to be a single father.

And it was the color he shoved into the box inside his head, the box that held all the doubts he never wanted to think about, and the color that he pushed back once again when he decided that he would be good enough.

It was the surprise that crossed his mind when the doorbell rang, late one night, and it was the shock in his chest when he opened the door to find Alexander with the color staining his face. It was the tint to Alexander’s words when he spilled what had happened, and it dripped from Aaron’s face, all the disapproval that he felt and knew shone through his carefully guarded eyes and blank expression.

It was the color that leaked into the room later that night as he stared at Alexander asleep on his couch and thought about what an amazing thing Alexander had gone and thrown away.

It was the color of the fading bruises on the wrists of the girl who came in with Eliza a few months later, the color of the fear in her eyes as he told Aaron what she wanted. It was the comforting energy that passed from Eliza to the girl, and it shone from the relief in her eyes when Aaron said he could help her.

Aaron could see the color in the love they shared, fresh and innocent and beautiful, and a tiny bit of the color flowed back into his own heart when he glanced at the picture of him and Theodosia sitting on his desk. It wasn’t much, but it was there all the same.

It’s the color of the round eyes that stare back at Aaron when Laurens introduces them to his daughter, the color of the relief that envelops him when he realizes he’s not alone in being a single father.

It’s also the color that glows around Alexander when he bursts into Aaron’s office one afternoon with a coffee-stained shirt and a number scribbled onto his hand. It’s the color that so obviously betrays Aaron’s inner thoughts when Alexander tells him that he and John are going to try again, but it is also the color that holds him back and tells him to let Alexander try.

It’s the color that has always held him back, the one that never lets him try. But now it’s the color he’s learning to live with, and the one he’s actually starting to enjoy living with. It’s not perfect, and it might never be.

_But it’s a start._


End file.
